Trickster King
by Magi Silverwolf
Summary: Loki met his death in 'Infinity War'. Now he meets Death itself. (MC4A fill; Fix It fic)


**Disclaimer:** I do not own the original canon nor am I making any profit from writing this piece. All works are accredited to their original authors, performers, and producers while this piece is mine. No copyright infringement is intended. I acknowledge that all views and opinions expressed herein are merely my interpretations of the characters and situations found within the original canon and may not reflect the views and opinions of the original author(s), producer(s), and/or other people.

**Warnings:** This story may contain material that is not suitable for all audiences and may offend some readers. Please exercise understanding of personal sensitivities before and during reading.

**Author's Note(s):** I have no excuse for this other than the MCU didn't understand all the facts when they killed Loki and what they were not understanding is that I love Loki. So here's me fixing that portion of _Infinity War_.

**Challenge/Competition Block**:  
**Stacked with:** Winter Bingo; RC; NCR; FF; SoC; PP; LL; NC; StL; ToS; FPC; Long Haul (N); Truth (Y); Not Easy (Y); New Fandom Smell (?)  
**Space Address (Prompt):** 2B (Birth/Rebirth)  
**Representation:** Loki; Space; Death of the Endless; Tony Stark  
**Bonus Challenge(s):** Sneeze Weasel; Where Angels Fear; Second Verse (Not a Lamp; Ladylike; Wabi Sabi; Middle Name; Tomorrow's Shade; Unwanted Advice; Some Beach; Unicorn; Lock & Key; Odd Feathers; Rock of Ages; Bad Beans; Creature Feature; Machismo; Infinity; Land of Enchantment; Seven Gates; Most Human Bean)  
**Word Count**: 1480

-= LP =-  
Trickster King  
-= LP =-

The world faded into existence around Loki, instead of the sharp click he had always expected if death was more than just an ending. It felt similar to how falling through the Void to Sakaar had felt. Unlike that experience, he was not surrounded by the gaudy neon and golds that the Grandmaster had used for his little realm. It was just shades of gray with a white sky.

His breath fogged the air around him, though Loki did feel cold. Lifting his hands revealed the telltale blue of his Jotun heritage, blank now of the etched tattoos which had decorated the skin previously. Even the scars he had earned through battle or gained through various tortured appeared to be missing. He was as blank as the desolate landscape around him.

"All things are renewed here."

Loki turned quickly. His favorite daggers were in his hands before he fully realized that he even still had them. The woman merely quirked a pierced eyebrow at him. Her black hair hung in choppy waves around her finely sculpted face. The green of her eyes was the same soft shade of sunlight filtering through oak leaves at midsummer, when life was fulfilling the promise that spring had held and had not yet been curbed by the harsher heat to come. A tattoo delicately curled from the outer edge of her right eye along with a sharp line that came straight out.

To Loki, it gave that eye the vaguest appearance of a raven, marking her as one of his own kind.

Tricksters knew better than to mess with another Trickster.

Loki knew better than to trust one that smiled so sweetly at him.

She was small, both in stature and in build, but Loki knew that size meant nothing about how dangerous someone could be. His female form was small as well, and it had never hindered his ability to strike a killing blow. Moreover, this woman wore clothing that Brunhilde's preferred attire when she was not wearing the Valkyrie uniform that Thor had found for her. The tough but flexible leather was passable armor even without any of the enchantments that it could have.

Around her neck was a leather band with a silver charm on it. Asgard and Midgard used collars to denote a certain status to individuals. Loki swallowed hard against shameful jealousy that someone would wear one so openly, without care of that it might be seen. Bitterly, he reminded himself that not everyone held the same views as Asgard. To distract himself, he started to ask her who she was.

"You look like you could be my daughter," Loki said instead of what he intended. He took a step backwards as he processed that. It had been an idle thought in the back of his mind, but it hadn't been as pressing as the other things he had noted.

He eyed the charm on the woman's collar, an _ankh_ the size and length of Thor's thumb. Admitting the truth he had previously refused, he returned his blades to their hidden sheathes. What chance did anyone, even a god, truly have against Death itself? Even Hela had been impossible to defeat, and she was merely the goddess of death.

"In some universes, I am," she returned with a bright smile. "In others, we're friends and sometimes lovers. After all, what goes better with life and death than trickery and illusions?" She moved closer, prowling like a cat stalking prey. Yet he didn't feel hunted, only intrigued, his interest piqued in the same that Brunhilde always managed so effortlessly. "Especially for you, Loki Silvertongue. I have heard of you many times, in so many universes that I have long since lost the care to count."

"And what have you heard, Lady Death?"

"I have heard that you are the King's son who brings the same burdens as an albatross," Death announced, clearly pleased that he had felt no fear of using her title. She laughed and it sounded like the clash of blades at the height of battle. She was close enough now that he could feel the illusionary heat coming off of her. "And I have heard of your glorious purpose, of your great destiny."

"Grandiose delusions of an unwanted runt," Loki said with bitter honesty. "My only destiny was to die."

"The albatross brings ill fortune only to those without the wisdom to treat it as a treasure. It brings life and prosperity to those who love it with an honest heart."

"And what would I know of honesty? I am a Trickster."

"Your silver tongue suits you well, Loki Worldwalker." She looked both impressed and enraged. Loki was oddly reassured by the expression. "It is the way of a trickster to be honest in the ways that matter. It is the obstinacy of mortals that make them fear a trickster's words."

"You would know," Loki countered, "being one yourself."

"Clever boy," she praised, reaching out with both hands to touch his armor-clad chest. She looked up at him through soot-colored lashes. Her lips curved seductively. "Ask me for what you want, O King. Ask and you shall receive."

A thousand things raced through his mind. He had no doubt that she spoke the truth. Everything he had ever wanted he could have. Every hope he had ever held as a boy desperate for approval that would never come; every wish he had hidden in the depths of his heart. He could have it all with just a few words.

_King_, she had called him, and Loki knew that he would answer as one.

"Send me back."

"Are you certain?" she questioned, still watching him with mock submission. The tip of her tongue darted teasingly across her lips. "You could stay here, with me. You've certainly earned the rest."

"Send me back," he said again, no less firmly than before. She was beautiful, no doubt, and very much his type, when it came to the more feminine physiques. But Loki knew what he needed.

"You could move on. Try your luck with a new life."

By the Norns, that was a tempting idea. He certainly hadn't had the best of luck in this life. Still, only he could open the dimensional pocket he had hid the population of the _Stateman_ in when the _Dark Aster_ had appeared. He had sealed it in such a way that none of Thanos' sorcerers would ever have a hope of gaining access. The people within were safe and would not know if the dimension was never open again.

But Loki had made promises, if only to himself, when he had taken over Odin's rule.

He was more than a king's son, though he had never rule in his own name.

Loki was a king.

"Send me back," he repeated for a third time. She dropped all attempts at coy shyness, pressing her lithe body against his fully. Her hands slid up his chest to his neck. Using that grip as leverage, she pulled him down for a kiss more passionate than any he had ever experienced. Finally, she pulled back to nip at his bottom lip.

"Take care of my Merchant," she ordered as he panted for breath. The green of her eyes seemed to be glowing. "The end of the game depends on him, so take care of my Merchant."

Loki's eyes slid shut as a familiar fire lanced through his gut, making his hips stutter forward and his knees weak. His hands came up to clutch at her, but she was already gone. The only trace of her was the fading heat from her body and a hint of burning hawthorn berries.

He opened his eyes to find himself standing on the pilot deck of a dead ship. Sitting with his back to the observation window was none other than Tony Stark, who looked tired but otherwise whole. The genius blinked slowly at him before shrugging his acceptance.

"Don't have anything to offer ya," Stark said with a fair amount of the same flippancy he had shown back on Earth. "Though I have to say that I did not expect to dream of you, Reindeer Games. I had kind already promised my fiancée this role."

"If you cannot provide refreshments," Loki replied, already weaving something simple into existence with far more elaborate motions than truly needed to cover the cleaning charm he was performing at the same time, "I guess I can do so, if only to be hospitable and delay any retaliation for my unwanted intrusion. With all due honesty, I had not expected Death to send me back so quickly."

"Yeah, she's like that," Stark agreed as he accepted the offered drink, "a real trickster. But you would know what that's like."

Loki raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

Tricksters knew when silence said the most, after all.

-= LP =-  
An Ending  
-= LP =-


End file.
